Can't Keep Away From You
by mysteryssister
Summary: Malfoy and Hermione hate each other because of a little incident at the beginning of the year. They might just kill each other just for the punishment they get at the end of the year, or maybe not. Story is better than summary. Rated T for safety
1. Her Own, Private War

A/N: I know this is kind of an overused plot, but everyone is at Hogwarts again to complete their education after the Battle of Hogwarts and Voldemort and all that. Just so you know. This (probably) won't be as long as When did This Happen (which you should _totally_ read) but it should be good. Please R&R!

Hermione glanced at Ron. She was in an armchair across from his in the Gryffindor common room. She looked away when his eyes met hers. Things weren't _so_ weird. They had broken up after the Battle of Hogwarts, and she hadn't really known what to do for a while. But now, he was just Ron again and things were pretty much back to normal. Which was a good thing.

She rubbed the red velvet of the armchair. She hadn't expected to be back at Hogwarts again. Actually, she hadn't really believed that there would be a Hogwarts to come back to. She still had terrible nightmares about all she had done to protect it. She would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming, seeing Bellatrix Lestrange standing over her with a knife in one hand and her wand in the other, the word "Crucio!" shrieked into the air. Or she would open her eyes in the morning and wonder why she wasn't looking at the ceiling of the tent she, Ron, and Harry had shared for so many months.

Harry broke the silence. "We'd better go. Potions starts in ten minutes, and while Slughorn may let me out of detention, you might not be so lucky."

"Yeah," Hermione replied, standing. "I just need to get my things. Give me a minute."

Ron snickered when she came back down from her dormitory, the bag slung over her shoulder full to bursting. "Shut up," she said. "Just because _you're _never prepared."

"Yeah, sure," he smirked.

"Can we just go?" she asked, following Harry out of the portrait hole and down the corridor.

Hermione sighed before she entered the Potions classroom in the dungeons. It wasn't her least favorite class, but Professor Slughorn was exhausting at the best of times. She sat next to Harry and tried to pay attention. The problem was that she already knew everything Slughorn was saying. So, when Hermione wasn't paying a whole lot of attention and Slughorn asked a question, the unthinkable happened; Hermione Granger wasn't the first person with her hand in the air. When she realized this, her hand flew up in a reflex reaction, even though she had no idea what he had just asked. She moved too fast. Her left pinkie slammed into the cauldron in front of her. She yelped in pain, pulling her hand back.

"Is something wrong?" Professor Slughorn asked, surprised at the interruption.

"No, sorry," Hermione replied. _Except for the fact that I can't move my pinkie, _she thought, trying to bend it. It didn't work too well. _It'll be fine by tomorrow morning,_ she told herself. Slughorn continued his lecture as Hermione rubbed her hand, wincing. She finally concluded that that wasn't going to help anything, gave up, and looked around the room, hoping for a distraction.

There was nothing exceptional anywhere. Everything was exactly the way she remembered it, except… Something about Draco Malfoy caught her eye. This was strange in itself, because she usually spent as little time looking at him as possible, as his expression almost always made her want to punch him. Just then, however, he was actually paying attention, and it made him look almost like a normal student. But she was sure that something other than that was different. She kept glancing at him all throughout class, trying to put her finger on the change, when, finally, she saw it. A thin scar wrapped partway around his neck. She wondered where it had come from, because she knew for a fact that it hadn't been there before. One, it looked fairly recent, and two, he boasted loudly about all his scars during meals, and he had never mentioned this one. She shrugged to herself. _Whatever. It's not my business. And I'll probably hear all about it during lunch while he relates a story of his 'incredible bravery' to his friends. _She turned back to her throbbing finger.

Draco pretended to pay attention. It was easy; all he had to do was look at the teacher and move his quill like he was taking notes. And not scowl, glare, or smirk. That was more of a challenge. In between looking at Slughorn, looking at his parchment, and concentrating on his facial expressions, he glanced around the room. Nothing had changed. The only things he noticed were that Hermione Granger, a.k.a., the mudblood, wasn't using her left hand, and that she kept looking over at him. _What the heck_? He thought, fingering the scar on his neck. _Why is she looking at me? _Then, he thought, _Oh my God, she likes me! _ Shockingly, this wasn't even unreasonable to him. Actually, he could have a lot of fun with a girl who liked him. He wouldn't _do_ anything to her, just mess with her head a bit. He grinned. This would be entertaining.

Hermione sighed with relief when Slughorn finally ended his lecture and the bell rang. She shoved her Potions book into her bag- and that was when the seams split. All her books tumbled to the floor. Ron and Harry, already halfway to the door, looked back when she groaned. They started back to help her, but she shook her head and said, "No. You guys go on to lunch. I'll catch up with you later." Harry looked uncertain, but Ron said, "I'll save you some food," and dragged Harry through the door. He was obviously starving.

Hermione gathered all her books, parchment, quells, and ink bottles (which had mercifully not been smashed when they hit the floor) into a pile on the table. Then, she grabbed the ripped bag and tapped it with her wand, muttering, "Reparo." It stitched itself up again, ending up exactly as it had been before. She put some reinforcing charms on the seams and looked despairingly at the huge pile of her stuff on the table. _Great,_ she thought. _That's going to be fun to get back in. _She managed to cram all but two of her books into the bag and stood, swinging it over her shoulder and carrying the two books in her arms. She was so busy trying to manage the load without dropping anything or jarring her pinkie that she didn't notice Draco Malfoy outside in the corridor until she crashed into him.

Apparently, the reinforcing charms on her bag hadn't been enough, because the seams split again. "Shit," Hermione said vehemently. She didn't usually swear, but it was getting to be one of _those_ days. She had barely been at Hogwarts one week and she already needed new school supplies. "Move, would you?" she added crossly to Malfoy. He was blocking her way to her books that had scattered on the floor.

"You sure you want me to?" Malfoy drawled.

Hermione didn't have time for this. "Yeah, pretty sure."

He moved toward her. "I heard you've got a crush on me."

She wanted to scream. What an egomaniac! And that was the stupidest thing she'd ever heard. "Oh, sure. I always fall for the stupid ferrets who help get my friends killed. _Now get out of my way_!"

"I know you do." He kept advancing, and she backed up until she hit the wall, when she started to swear inwardly. He leaned toward her, his breath hot on her face.

"Get off me, you fucking _idiot!" _ Hermione shoved him with all her strength. But she had forgotten about her pinkie. When she pushed him, it bent backward. She gasped in pain, dropping her hands and instinctively doubling over.

"What the-" he said.

"If you don't move right now, I don't know what I'll do, but you will be in pain for the rest of your life, I swear," she snarled.

"What did I do?"

"Move!" She pushed him aside, walking as fast as she could without running to the hospital wing. 

She heard footsteps behind her and a hand grabbed her elbow. "What the hell?" Malfoy said.

She spun around, telling herself that she would ask why he cared later. "There isn't a lot that's keeping me from ripping that scar on your neck open, so unless you want to bleed all over the corridor, you'll let me go to the hospital wing so you have time to set up some defenses before I hex you into oblivion." He winced and let go of her arm.

When they got to the hospital wing- for some reason, Malfoy was still behind her- the nurse, Madam Pomfrey, bustled over and shook her head at the state of Hermione's finger.

"How did this happen?" she asked disapprovingly.

"Assault," Hermione said, feeling snappy. Professor McGonagall chose that moment to enter the hospital wing.

"What assault?" she asked sternly.

"Malfoy," Hermione said by way of explanation. He opened his mouth to protest, but, low enough that Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall couldn't hear her, she hissed, "I could tell them that it was sexual assault, and you'd be in a lot more trouble than you're already in. And trust me, they would believe that." He pressed his lips together angrily, but didn't try to say anything more.

Professor McGonagall looked inquiringly at Madam Pomfrey,. "She broke a finger," the nurse said. "It's not serious; she'll be fine soon."

"Even so," McGonagall said stiffly. "Mr. Malfoy, come with me. We will discuss your punishment in my office." Malfoy looked absolutely furious, but followed the Headmistress out of the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey thrust a flask at Hermione. "Drink this," she ordered. "And-" she walked back to her office and grabbed something- "Keep this on for the night." Hermione obediently gulped down the potion and took the object from Madam Pomfrey. It was a roll of medical tape. She sighed and wrapped the tape around her pinkie and ring finger, splinting them together. "You should be fine by morning," the nurse added when Hermione handed the tape back to her. "You may go."

"Thank you," Hermione said politely, and headed off to the end of lunch.

Draco did not think his punishment was at all fair. A month's worth of detention, just for breaking the stupid mudblood's finger! And it was her own fault she'd broken it. He had detention and she would have a finger that would hurt for twelve hours or less. How was that fair? Well, he would get back at her. No one got a Malfoy in trouble and didn't pay for it.

The next day, Hermione was headed for Transfiguration with Harry and Ron when Malfoy passed them in the hallway.

"Bastard," she muttered under her breath.

He stopped dead in the middle of the corridor, causing Crabbe and Goyle, who were, as usual, following him, to almost run him over. Malfoy gave his very predictable response; he smirked. "I don't think you _really_ mean that, Granger."

"I _really_ mean that, Malfoy," she shot back.

"Then what was that yesterday?" he asked, his smirk broadening.

"That was you being the egotistical jerk you are. And deluding yourself into thinking that I don't mean what I say when I say it."

"Now, I really don't think you mean that. If you won't admit it to me, at least admit it to yourself."

Hermione mimicked throwing up behind her hand. "The day I even entertain the thought of what you accused me of yesterday is the day I use 'Crucio' on myself. Never. Now take the slime that's your ego somewhere else. I just washed my hair." She could not believe that he actually thought she could possibly have a crush on him. That was just beyond gross.

He looked like he was going to say something that was probably not even close to school appropriate, but Ron and Harry were glaring daggers at him, so he just gave Hermione a contemptuous look and stalked off.

As soon as Malfoy was gone, Harry and Ron turned on Hermione. "What happened yesterday?" Harry asked commandingly.

Hermione glared at the corridor Malfoy had disappeared down. "Just Malfoy being Malfoy," she said, trying to sound offhand. "Come on, we'll be late for McGonagall."

That wasn't the last time Hermione and Malfoy hissed insults at each other in the corridors, or had angry shouting matches about Malfoy's ego and Hermione's… bitchiness. This was oddly refreshing for Hermione. It was nice to be able to scream at someone without being afraid of getting in trouble or losing them as a friend, because Malfoy wasn't a friend and she didn't care what he thought. And she always had something bad to yell about him.

Harry and Ron still didn't know what had happened the day Hermione had broken her finger, and she wasn't planning on telling them anytime soon. She was pissed at Malfoy, but not pissed enough to deal with Ron's hotheadedness. This was her own, private war.

A/N: Hope you liked this first chapter. Next chapter will be Christmas, and it should be pretty funny. Please, please, please review!

Love,

k


	2. Rubies and Darkness

A/N: I'm a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad person for making you wait this long to read this chapter. BUT, I was in Rome and Pompeii and Paris and it was FREAKING AMAZING, so that's why I haven't updated. Thanks to all of you who reviewed!!!

Hermione's last year at Hogwarts was flying by. She couldn't believe it when she looked at the calendar and realized that Christmas break was the next week. That same day, she received an invitation from Mrs. Weasley to spend Christmas at the Burrow with Ron's family. She sent a grateful letter back, accepting the offer.

That week, Hermione and Malfoy had an all-out shouting match that lasted almost forty-five minutes. Hermione couldn't remember what exactly it was about, but it was nice to have a break from studying. And her nightmares. The terrifying dreams about what had happened the previous year involving horcruxes and the Battle of Hogwarts had gone away for a while, but they were slowly returning, sending her screaming awake at least twice a week. Her voice was getting pretty hoarse between screaming from nightmares and her shouting matches with Malfoy.

Arriving at the Burrow the following week, Hermione was greeted warmly by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill Weasley and his wife, Fleur, and Bill and Ron's brothers Charlie and George. Hermione instinctively glanced around to find Fred, George's twin brother, before remembering with a wince that he was dead. She forcefully pushed that painful memory aside and smiled at Ron's family.

"It's great to see you all again," she said cheerfully.

"You too, dear," Mrs. Weasley beamed, hugging her. "Oh, and here come Harry and Ron and Ginny."

The mentioned people stepped out of the fireplace, having just arrived by floo powder. "Ron! Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley cried. "Brush that ash off of you before you get it all over the rug!" Harry paused guiltily. "Oh, that's all right, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said hastily. "I'll clean that up later, it's just a bit of soot. No, really, it's no trouble at all. It's good to see you, dear."

"You too, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said.

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On Christmas morning, Hermione's wake-up call was a shoe to the head.

"What the-!" she yelped, sitting bolt upright.

"Happy Christmas, Hermione!" Ginny, who she was sharing a room with, sang cheerfully, dropping back onto her bed.

"Happy freaking Christmas to you, too," Hermione grumbled, rubbing her head.

"Sorry about the shoe."

"Whatever."

"Come on! Let's go open presents!" Ginny dragged Hermione out of bed, reminding Hermione of a five-year-old on a sugar high.

"Geeze, I'm coming! Let me go!"

When Hermione finally made it back upstairs carrying the books and jewelry that had been her presents, she was mildly surprised to see a small package sitting on her bed. She dumped all the gifts at the foot of her bed and picked up the mystery package.

She rolled her eyes in annoyance when she saw the label. "To: The stupid bitch who does sneak glances at me, no matter what she says. From: The amazing boy who laughs at your broken finger." Such a Malfoy thing to say. "Jerk," she muttered under her breath. But she opened the package.

Inside was a ruby drop, small and delicate, on a golden chain. She was impressed in spite of herself. Then, she touched it. She yelped and yanked her hand back, examining her fingers. They had already started to blister from the burn she had received from the ruby. She tapped her fingers with her wand, muttering an incantation. The pain in her hand subsided enough that she could ignore it. She eyed the pendent curiously, then touched the chain, making sure it wouldn't have the same effect as the ruby. It didn't burn her, so she picked it up and cautiously examined it. She grabbed a scrap of wrapping paper and touched it to the ruby. The paper instantly curled into flames, which she blew out hastily.

"You little bastard," she hissed. She stood quickly and marched down the stairs. She smiled at George when she saw him. "Hey, George. Uh, I forgot to get something for one of my friends," she said. "Would it be too much trouble if we stopped at the joke shop for a bit so I could pick something up?"

George feigned being shocked. "Hermione Granger forgot something? It's a sign! Of-"

"The start of the end of the world," she interjected. "Anyways, could we?"

George's joke shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, was locked when Hermione and George, accompanied by Ron and Harry, came to it, with a sign over the door saying, "Closed for the holidays. You should have done your shopping earlier." That made her laugh. George pulled out a key, unlocked the door, and gestured the others inside, waving his wand to light the lamps on the walls.

Hermione browsed through the contents of the shop, searching for the one thing she could send Malfoy to get back at him. She paused when she came to a box of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. The label said that it would causes cause pitch darkness impenetrable by any light, magical or not, for up to one hour.

"Does this really work?" she asked George.

He looked a bit insulted. "Of course it works. Just like it says on the box. Well, actually, it says it only lasts one hour, but if you use the whole box at once, It can last anywhere from six to twelve hours."

"Really?" Hermione was seriously considering this idea.

"Yep. And also, with just a simple incantation, you can make it latch onto a specific person, so the darkness follows him around everywhere. You don't even have to put the charm on the person; it works just as well if you just charm the powder itself. Very handy."

"Yes, it is," Hermione murmured. "How much does it cost?"

"Fourteen sickles and five knuts," he answered promptly.

Hermione thought for a moment, then grinned and handed over the money. "What's the incantation?"

"It's in the instructions. But what could the perfect Hermione Granger possibly want with something like that?"

"Don't ask, George. Don't ask."

Draco smirked at the owl perched on his windowsill. It bounced up and down, clearly eager to get out of the cold and get rid of the package tied to it's leg. He didn't smirk because he had something against the owl; that was just what he did. If he didn't care about something, he smirked at it. If he didn't like (the mudblood Granger came to mind…), he smirked at it infuriatingly, then glared, or hexed it, when it's back was turned. If he liked it, he smirked in a show off-y way. He went through his facial expressions a few times before being startled by the disgruntled owl pecking on his window. He glared at it for interrupting him, then opened the window to let it in, untied the package, and shooed it back outside.

He raised his eyebrows in half amusement, half irritation when he saw the label on the parcel. "To: The stupid bastard who wouldn't know the truth if it slapped him in the face and told him to wake up and get over himself. From: The smart girl who's totally disgusted at the thought of sneaking glances at said freaking bastard and who is practicing martial arts so her finger doesn't break next time." _Wonder what she dreamed up to put in here,_ he mused, rolling his eyes. _Nothing near as cool as that ruby pendant, or as effective, I bet. Oh well. Better get it over with._

He pulled off the paper around the package, then pulled off the lid of the box inside. "What the-!" he yelped in shock as the powder inside exploded out. It was as if the sun had been snuffed out, he had been blinded, then blindfolded all in the same instant. It was that dark. "Shit," he muttered. "What is this?" Then, he remembered. He had used some himself the previous year. Instant Darkness Powder. And he had no idea where any of his lamps were, if they would even work. And he hated the dark. Great. This was going to be fun. She was going to get that mudblood if it was the last thing he ever did. She would be in pain for the rest of her _life_. That was a promise.

A/N: All right! Did you like it? Review! Oh, did anyone catch the song reference? Probably not; it's not that common. But if you did, I want to know! Come on people, review! Just click the little button and take the five seconds to write ten words. I know you can do it.

Love,

k


	3. Burning Up

A/N: I am so so so so so so sorry that this took so long. I have no excuse. Go ahead and hunt me down with pitchforks for taking so long. HOWEVER I only got about 3 reviews, and _maybe_ if you reviewed more, I would hurry up *hint hint* But thank you to the few who _did_ review. Oh, by the way, this is NOT my favorite chapter. It's ok, but really, now I'm just trying to get to the end of the year, which will be brilliant.

Oh, WARNING: Bad language in this chapter. Nothing you can't handle, I promise.

When school started again, Hermione put the ruby drop in the box it had arrived in, which seemed to be the only thing that didn't burst into flames upon contact. She packed, then stepped through the Weasley's fireplace and into Professor McGonagall's using floo powder.

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger," the professor said as Hermione brushed the fireplace ash off of her clothing.

"Hello, Professor."

"There is a package waiting for you in your dormitory," McGonagall informed her.

"Really?" Hermione was puzzled. "Who is it from?"

"There isn't a name on the package." The way she said it made it sound like there was something instead of a name, something that she highly disapproved of. _Something from Malfoy?_ Hermione thought. _Maybe._

"Alright. Thank you." Just then, Ginny stumbled out of the fireplace, soon followed by Harry and Ron. Professor McGonagall turned back to the papers she had been grading before Hermione had arrived. "You may all go to your dormitories," she told them. They trooped out, all trying to get as little ash on the carpet as possible.

After Hermione got to her dormitory and unpacked, she turned to the package on her bed. It was from Malfoy all right. The label said, "To: The delusional girl who should be slapped in the face just so she can admit that she's in love. From: The god-like boy who knows the truth and hopes she has a sucky new year." _Screw you,_ Hermione thought, rolling her eyes. And he thought _she _was delusional! She ripped open the parcel and out fell… a shirt. A plain, red, t-shirt. "That's it?" she said aloud. But she knew there had to be some twist to it. She checked the inside of the shirt carefully for powder or liquid that could harm her if she touched it. She tried every revealer spell she knew for some nasty jinx, but it really seemed like it was just a shirt. She wondered if the only trick to this was to make her feel stupid. She sighed. She didn't want to put it on, but she knew that she would be going crazy wondering what this shirt did until she got the courage to find out. She stared reluctantly at it for a moment, then groaned, yanked off her robes and grabbed the shirt, pulling it over her head. At once, she shrieked, clawing at the thing to get it off. As soon as she had gotten it on her, letters on the front had made themselves clear- by bursting into flame. Even upside-down, she could read the words the fire had spelled out: "Don't deny it, bitch." Finally, she managed to rip the thing off her, but the damage had been done. She had been burned, badly. And unfortunately, she had been burned in the shape of the words, so her skin spelled out what the shirt had in angry red letters. This was going to be fun to explain if someone saw. She couldn't go to the nurse, that would be almost impossible to explain. And this was her fight. She glared at the red fabric still smoldering on the floor. "I will deny until the end of time," she told it. "And how did he even manage to get that thing past security?" No one answered.

xxxxxxxxx

Five days after he had sent the shirt to Hermione, Draco was in a _very_ bad mood. Her return 'present' had been a box of fireworks. Very nasty fireworks that had exploded the moment he opened the box, getting into his eyes and hair and clothes, causing some extremely unpleasant burns. He had not had a good time trying to get them off or put them out. It was a miniature disaster. The only satisfaction he got during the whole week was the sight of a few nasty burns just below Granger's neck when her robes slipped. They looked painful. He hoped they hurt more than his own burns.

A/N: You like? Ok, I lied before. I like this chapter. From now on, I've decided to put a song reference in every chapter. I doubt you'll find them, but if you do, put them in your review (because I _know _you're going to review). Hint: this one is in the last paragraph. I don't expect you to find it, but you never know. Oh, also, in the review I know you're going to give, I need some help. I need an idea about something that both Hermione and Draco could do that would land them in a lot of trouble. But please keep in mind that they _really do hate each other._ But I need ideas!!! I'll update faster if you review (cause that's not a guilt trip at all… ­­

Love,

k


	4. Email and iPods

A/N: You people wonder why I update so infrequently. You're all awful at reviewing. Thank you so much to AdelaideB, LadyDisdain89, and . for your wonderful reviews. You rule. LadyDisdain89 pointed out to me that Malfoy breaking Hermione's finger wasn't much cause for a full, blown-out war, and she is absolutely right. I think I should just clear this up. Hermione hated him before, for almost getting all of them killed (more than once), and for letting Death Eaters into the castle in 6th year, and almost killing Dumbledore and then letting Dumbledore die. I could go on and on. She's prejudiced. Oh, and there was something about electronics and such not working at Hogwarts because of all the magical activity, but I'm ignoring that. Also, I realize the book was written before the time of laptops and iPods, but I'm ignoring that too. This is a filler chapter, so don't expect much. Now, I'll let you read the actual story, and sorry this took so long.

Chapter 4

Email

Sitting on her bed in her dormitory, Hermione grabbed the laptop and iPod Nano her parents had given her on her last birthday. She had discovered that, for some strange reason, Hogwarts had great internet access. She had no idea why that was, as most witches and wizards didn't use computers to communicate, but it was nice that she could use the internet; it made contact with her parents and muggle friends that much easier. Recharging the battery of her computer with a tap of her wand, she clicked the power button and put in her earphones, switching her iPod on as well. Probably the only thing Harry and Ron didn't know about her was her obsession with music. She had no clue why she had never told them, aside from the fact that the subject had just never come up, but she couldn't see how they could have missed it, either.

The song 'Defying Gravity', from the musical 'Wicked', came on as her computer woke up. She sang along quietly. "_Something has changed within me/ Something is not the same/ I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game._" The song definitely applied to Nicole, the girl who had gotten Hermione into this particular musical in the first place and was also her best muggle friend. "_Too late for second guessing/ Too late to go back to sleep/ It's time to trust my instincts/ Close my eyes/ and leap…/ It's time to try defying gravity/ I think I'll try defying gravity/ And you can't pull me down_," she sang.

She clicked on the internet icon and logged onto her email account. She had some junk mail, a notice about something expiring (she didn't know what) and one letter from her parents and another from Nicole. She opened her parents' first.

"**Dear Hermione,**

**How were your holidays? It's odd not to be in Australia, like last year, but nice to be home. It was lonely here without you, too, but we understand how inconvenient it would be for you to have to travel so far to come home. We'll see you this summer, in any case. **

**Thank you so much for the lovely pictures; it's wonderful how they move. It makes it seem like you and your friends are really here.**

**We hope you liked your gift, and that school is going well!**

**Happy Christmas and have a wonderful New Year!**

**Love,**

**Mum and Dad"**

Hermione smiled, though she felt a little guilty that she hadn't been able to join her family for Christmas. She sent back a reply saying that her holidays had been wonderful, she was well, thanks for the gift, and that she missed them. That done, she proceeded to Nicole's letter.

Nicole was Hermione's only muggle friend who knew that Hermione was a witch and she wasn't at an expensive boarding school. She was also the only person, besides Harry and Ron, who knew everything that was going on in Hermione's life. Actually, she probably knew more than Harry and Ron. This was good for Hermione, who didn't really have any other girlfriends she could confide in, in or out of Hogwarts.

"**Hey, Hermione,"** Nicole had written.

"**Happy Christmas! Thanks for the earrings; I love that they change color. Mum keeps asking me how often I change my jewelry because they'll be green when she leaves the room and purple when she comes back. It's hysterical to watch her try and catch me switching them out. Plus, they're just wicked cool.**

**Are you back at school yet? I got the impression from your last email that quarters at your friend Ron's house were a bit cramped, and I know you like your space. But I hope you had fun, and it wasn't too awkward, his being your ex-boyfriend and all. Holidays at my house are **_**not **_**fun (have I told you that before?). I know you're sick of hearing about it, but I'll say it again; Mum is **_**such**_** a control freak! But at least I got good presents. Other than the clothes. Fathers should not shop for their daughters. Ever. **

**How is Hogwarts, if you're back? Had to deal with the idiot Malfoy boy yet? Suggestion: next time, send him something that explodes in his face. Good luck in that. **

**Are the nightmares getting any better? I know you went through a lot last year. It can't be easy. **

**School just started, and I'm already in trouble with my Trig teacher for calling Ashley, Susan and Shelby 'bad names'. It was worth it though. They're such idiots. Oh, hey, I came up with an acronym for them: the ASS. It suits them. **

**Have fun for the rest of the year! Will you be home for the summer? I know that this is your last year of school, and you'll probably be getting a job when it's over, but I think you should come home for a few weeks at least. If you do, we have to get together. I'll see you… sometime!**

**Love you!**

**Miss you!**

**Nicole"**

Hermione, grinning broadly, hit 'reply' and started typing. Nicole was always curious about her 'relationship' with Malfoy. Sometimes, Hermione forgot just how much Nicole really knew about her.

"**Dear Nicole,**

**Happy Christmas! I just got back to school last week and I'm already about to rip Malfoy's wretched head off. It would be fun. He just sent me this great shirt that burned some lovely new holes I didn't know I needed into my chest. Literally. Painfully. I'm one step ahead of you; his eyebrows are burned off, the ends of his hair are black, and his eyes are red. It was very satisfying. **

**Other than that, school is fine. As in, I'm not freaking out because of homework overload- yet. Tell your teacher that one of the girls you know said that whatever you said about Ashley and Susan and Shelby wasn't insulting, it was true. Those three are almost as bad as Pansy Parkinson and Lavender Brown, which is saying something. **

**I'm glad you liked the earrings. I wish I'd gotten a pair for myself. The book was great, by the way. I have to laugh when I read some people's views about magic. Thanks!**

**Yes, you've told me all about holidays at your house and about your mum. Many times. But I'll sympathize one more time; I'm sorry you have to endure that. Yes, it was a bit cramped at Ron's, but it wasn't so bad. Not even really awkward. It would have been better if Ginny didn't throw things at me, though. But oh well. **

**How's school, other than the ASS? I'll be home for at least part of the summer, so I'll see you then.**

**The nightmares are, well, not better, really, but I'll live. They're just dreams. **

**Happy Christmas and New Year! Have fun! **

**Love you!**

**Miss you!**

**Hermione"**

She hit 'send' and leaned back, listening to the new song on her iPod. It was nice to be in touch with the outside world.

A/N: Yeah, this was a filler, so sorry for the lack of excitement. Please, people, I'm begging you, review!!! Hope this wasn't too boring for you. Even if it was, I need input. I also still need ideas for what Hermione and Draco could do that would land them in detention for a month. It's important, so even if you have a crappy idea, I want to hear it.

Thank you all!

Love,

k


	5. Burning Pink Death

A/N: Because the last chapter was not the best, I… well, I didn't really update fast, BUT I made this chapter really long. You're welcome. Thank you to the reviewers! You're fantastic! Also, thanks for the ideas you guys gave me, especially . … Oh, and sorry I didn't reply to your reviews. I meant to, I really did. But I got kicked off the computer before I had the chance, so, here's my reply: THANK YOU! YOU'RE FANTASTIC!!!

On February the 14th, Hermione started her day by labeling a package she had bought from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, "To: the freaking idiot who has some creepy issue with fire and needs to get a life. From: The girl who knows twice as much truth as anyone else at Hogwarts." She headed up to the owlery and gave it to one of the school owls, instructing it to take it to Draco Malfoy. That done, she went to the Great Hall for breakfast.

She grimaced when she reached the dining area. She felt like she was drowning in pink. The tables were pink, the walls were pasted over with pink and red hearts, and hundreds of bowls of conversation hearts sat on the house tables as pink confetti rained down from the ceiling. Hermione officially hated Valentines Day.

Draco officially hated Valentines Day, too. Valentines Day and the color pink. He had never realized just how much he really hated that color until then. No, Valentines Day, pink, and that wretched mudblood. He was going to _kill_ her.

He was looking down at himself in horror. He couldn't believe that Granger had the nerve to do this to him. His hair- all of it- was pink. Head, eyebrows, lashes, and every other hair he had was bright, hot pink. He was going to die of humiliation. _Him_! A _Malfoy_! He was practically reduced to hiding under his covers. She was going to die a slow and painful death. Preferably involving a lot of fire and a branding iron.

Just then, Blaise Zabini, his best friend (or the only person he could refer to as his friend with any accuracy, though the term still didn't fit him very well) stepped into the dormitory, shaking his slightly damp black hair out of his wolf-blue eyes. "Draco Malfoy! Come on, let's go! I'm starv-" He had seen Draco- and he all but fell over laughing. "You- pink…" he gasped. "Oh, Merlin… Hot pink- … _Valentines Day spirit_!" he howled.

Draco was not amused. He smacked Blaise's head. Hard. "This was _not_ my idea, and if you tell anyone _at all_ about it, I will kill you. That is a promise, Zabini."

"Got it," Blaise snickered. "I take it you're not going to class today?"

Draco glowered at him out from under his very pink eyebrows. "That would be correct."

" 'Kay." He tried not to laugh again- and failed. "Man, I just can't take you seriously in that color."

Draco hit him again. "Not a word, Zabini," he called after his (sort-of) friend leaving the room. He glowered for a little while longer, then grabbed a parcel and started to scribble something on the top.

Blaise Zabini was true to his word; he didn't tell a soul about Draco's new hair color, though he was tempted to. But somehow, word got around anyways. Neither Zabini nor Malfoy knew who had started the rumors, but most of them had one source: Hermione Granger. It didn't take long before the whole school was whispering about how Draco Malfoy, who strutted around and never missed an opportunity to show off or torment others (preferably both at the same time), was stuck in bed out of pure humiliation. Everyone who wasn't in Slytherin was delighted, Hermione most of all. This was going to go down in history. Malfoy was never going to be able to live this one down. Not in her book, anyways. And the best part was, only she and Malfoy knew who had sent him the merchandise that had turned him pink, and he would certainly never admit that a _muggleborn_ had caused him all this trouble, or even that there was any trouble. Which meant that nobody could trace his problem back to her. She was thinking that she didn't hate Valentines Day so much after all.

Two hours later, she received a package, clearly from Malfoy, with an exceptionally scathing label that managed to work death threats into ridiculous insults. She almost laughed.

Hermione slit it open and pulled out what was inside. This time, she really did laugh. She couldn't help it. It was just that you didn't really expect to receive a bag of conversation hearts from your worst enemy. Conversation hearts were something you expected from your boyfriend, or maybe secret admirer (if you had a boyfriend or secret admirer, which Hermione didn't). The irony was just too much.

Though, naturally, coming from Malfoy, these weren't your usual conversation hearts. Instead of the usual messages of "Be Mine" and "My Sweetheart", they said things like "Mudblood" and "Know-it-All" and "Drop Dead".

"Charming," Hermione said, still a bit amused. She wasn't stupid enough to eat them, but she slipped them into her bag for no particular reason, not noticing the slit in the side of the plastic wrapped around them.

Three Hours Later (in the common room)

"Heeeey, Hermione," Ron said in a wheedling voice.

Hermione looked up from her Rune translations. "Whaaaat, Ron?"

"Because you're a wonderful, sweet, fantabulous girl…"

"I will not be your Valentine because this holiday is so completely pointless and stupid."

Ron looked a bit hurt. "That wasn't what I was going to ask."

"Oh, okay. Then, what, Ron?"

"Do you have any candy?"

"_What?_"

"I want some candy. Do you have some?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm not giving it to you."

"But you have some."

"And, like I said, it's not for you."

"Please?"

"No."

"_Please_?"

"_No._"

"I'm starving!"

"You just had dinner."

"Please!"

"No!"

Silence.

Hermione turned back to her work.

Until- "It _is_ Valentines Day, Hermione."

"Ron…" she said warningly.

"I just want some candy!"

"Jeeze! Fine!" Hermione grabbed the bag of conversation hearts from among her books and flung it at Ron. It hit him full in the face, exploding in a shower of candy as it did so, and he yelped. Hermione thought it was with triumph- until she could see his face again.

"Ow," he said. "Ow ow ow ow."

The words on the candies, "Mudblood", "Freak" "I'll kill you", were branded into his face, literally, where they had hit him.

Hermione's hands flew to her mouth. "Oh, my God, Ron, I'm so so so so sorry! I had no idea that would happen! Oh, no!"

"What's wrong with my face?" Ron asked slowly.

Just then, Harry climbed through the portrait hole. He caught sight of Ron and froze. "Bloody hell, Ron! What happened to you?" he cried.

"I don't know," Ron said grumpily. "But it hurts."

Wordlessly, Hermione handed him a small, glittery-backed hand mirror some girl had set down on the table.

"Bloody hell!" Ron gasped as he looked in the mirror. He certainly looked bad. His skin was red and blistered with the angry words. "What do these say?" he asked, squinting at the mirror and trying to read backwards. " 'Mudblood'?" he muttered, confused. "And what is with all these death threats? What is this?" he asked, turning to Hermione.

"Um…" Hermione squeaked. "Well… those were meant for me. But I had no idea they would do that!" she added hastily. "I thought they were just, you know…"

"Where did you get them, Hermione?" Harry asked quietly. "Since I'm pretty sure you didn't go out and buy candy that has the worst name someone can call you yourself."

"No," Hermione said in a high-pitched voice. She hesitated. She didn't want to tell Harry and Ron about her problems with Malfoy. But, looking at Ron's face, she know she owed him that much. "Just, don't kill anyone, okay?" She had few doubts that her friends would _not_ be happy when they found out what had been going on for the past few months.

"Spit it out, Hermione," Ron said.

She sighed. "Okay. Well… I got them from Malfoy."

"Um, what?" Harry asked, stunned, as Ron almost fell out of his chair.

"Don't look so shocked," she said a bit scornfully, though hoping they wouldn't start planning their revenge on Malfoy. "You know he hates me. I'm just stupid muggleborn scum to him and you know it." She was looking down at her book as she spoke.

"But, Hermione," Harry protested. "This is nasty, he could really hurt you, and he's going against school rules."

"Not that different than you, actually," Hermione muttered.

He pressed on. "Those candies were a horrible trick. What if you'd eaten them?"

"I'd have to be really stupid to do that." She looked at them stubbornly. "You don't get it. This has been going on for a while, and if I report him, I'll be in just as much trouble as he'll be in. the sweets look bad to you, and I feel awful that Ron got them, but this is really a much milder… gift than the last one. You act like I can't take care of myself."

They both gaped at her. " 'Been going on for a while'?" Ron finally said. "And what do you mean, _you'll_ be in trouble if you report _him_?"

"Oh, honestly, Ronald," Hermione said, fighting back a small smile. "You didn't expect me to just take all this lying down, did you? He's suffered just as much as I have." _I hope,_ she added in her mind. _I really really hope that's true. Malfoy deserves it._

"Hang on," Harry said. "This was a mild gift? What's that supposed to mean? And how has he suffered?"

She grinned. "I got some stuff. Diabolical really. It was fun."

"What kind of 'stuff'?"

"From Fred and-" she stopped short, wincing and glancing at Ron. His face had grown tight at the mention of his dead brother's name. "George's shop," Hermione corrected herself quickly.

There was a strained silence.

"Uh," Harry said, trying to steer the conversation away from the dangerous waters of dead brothers. "This was a mild retaliation?"

"You already asked that," she reminded him, also trying to distract Ron from the mention of Fred.

"You didn't answer," Ron said, trying as hard as the others.

Hermione thought that if the conversation had narrowly avoided the storm of the topic of Fred's untimely death, it was about to be dashed against the cliffs of the topic of her injuries relating to Draco Malfoy. But hey, whatever. She glanced around the Common Room. "Not here," she said softly. "Somewhere with less people."

Harry led them out of the portrait hole as Hermione debated whether it would be better to drown in a storm or be slashed to ribbons by stone cliffs (she could be way to literal sometimes). The three of them reached an empty room not far from Gryffindor tower and entered, and the boys turned to face her.

"So, what was so bad you couldn't say it in front of your fellow students?" Harry asked.

Hermione wondered how she could have possibly gotten herself into all of this. "This could be a bit difficult to explain," she warned, thinking, _Difficult to explain in a way that would keep you guys from charging off to beat Malfoy's stuffing out. Please, God, please don't let them be too overprotective of me. Please. _

"Well, get on with it," Ron said, interrupting her mental prayer.

She decided that a direct approach would be best for this and blessed the fact that she always wore normal, muggle clothes under her wizarding ones. "Don't freak out," she told Ron and Harry firmly, and pulled her robes over her head.

They both must have had the thought she'd been trying to avoid, because Harry had his hands over his eyes and Ron was probably gaping, though she couldn't tell as he had turned his face away rather quickly. "Oh, for goodness sake, relax." Her voice was a tad sharp. "You don't really think I'd strip in front of you."

Harry had the grace to blush, but said, "Well, you gave us a bit of a fright!"

"Sorry." She straitened her clothes, a deep blue, long sleeved, V-neck shirt that fit her frame nicely and a pair of soft blue jeans, and looked up at them.

"What?" they asked in unison, looking at her face.

"Honestly?" she said. They obviously had no idea what she was trying to show them. She shook her head and touched what her shirt revealed, but her robes had not; the half-healed burns from the flaming tee-shirt Malfoy had sent her and she'd been stupid enough to put on.

A/N: Mwahahahaha. I get to torture you with my cliffhanger. Okay, fine, it's not much of a cliffhanger, but whatever. I needed an excuse for an evil laugh. I hope this sort of made up for the lameness of the last chapter. Sorry it took so long, but it is about twice as long as all my other chapters. It would be great if you reviewed.(as in, you're obligated to review because I could have split this into two separate chapters, and then where would you be? Besides the obvious, I mean.) So. Review! I love you all.

Love,

k


	6. You Told Your Friends

A/N: I know it's been forever! I'm so sorry! It's just that this is my first year of high school, and school just started, and I've been so busy, and it's all been crazy. And then I got writer's block! So I'm so so so sorry! I'll try to update faster next time. Thank you so much to my wonderful reviewers, as always!

Needless to say, Harry and Ron were more than a little miffed that Hermione hadn't informed them of her issues with Malfoy earlier.

"I mean, honestly, Hermione," Ron was saying as they walked quickly towards potions class. "That prat is going to send you something _really _life-threatening one of these days, and _then_ where will you be?"

"Thanks, Ron," she said. "Glad you have so much faith in my ability to protect myself."

"Well, you know," Ron muttered. "I just don't want you to get hurt." He sounded embarrassed.

Hermione didn't have time to think of an answer for that before someone's shoulder barreled into her, almost knocking her over. Recovering her balance, she looked up, annoyed, into a qir of flashing grey eyes and a cold sneer.

"Told your friends, huh?" _he_ hissed. "Can't even answer your mail without cowering behind someone?"

"I don't _cower_, Draco Malfoy, which is more than you can say," she snarled back. "And believe me, they wouldn't know if you hadn't done what you did to Ron's face."

His eyes narrowed in confusion, and flickered over to Ron. His face had been mostly healed through some fancy spellwork of Hermione's, but some of the burns remained. Malfoy's scowl deepened. "You got him to open the package, didn't you? You _are_ a coward."

"No, shockingly enough, I didn't. you wouldn't understand." They were still talking softly, if with dangerous amounts of venom, but Hermione suspected that this was going to morph into a full-fledged screaming match if she wasn't careful. She flipped her hair behind her shoulder and gave him the Death Glare, daring him to answer her.

His face twisted with hate, but h turned his back and sauntered away.

"Hey! Malfoy!" she yelled after him. He turned with exaggerated slowness to face her. She grinned viciously. "I like the pink highlights."

Fury flashed across his face, swiftly masked over with calm. "I don't know wha you're talking about," he lied smoothly. And then he was swallowed up by a crowd of stundents.

Hermione's hands clenched into fists by her sides. "You know bloody well what I'm talking about," she hissed. "Don't pretend your hair isn't still _pink_ you slimy little-" Harry and Ron came up on either side of her.

"What was that about?" Harry asked, though judging by his voice, he had a pretty good idea.

"Nothing," Hermione said, glaring at the place Malfoy had vanished. "He's just being his usual git self." And that, if nothing else, was certainly true.

xxx

The end of the year was rushing closer, scaring Hermione into writing out several job applications. None would start until a month or so after summer started, so she would have time to go home to her parents for a while. And Nicole! she realized happily. And, even better, she might never have to see Malfoy again. Well, it was a long shot, she would admit, but it would be so marvelous! Never to have to see his stupid slicked-back hair again, or watch his eyes narrow in disgust, or hear is biting voice. It would be heaven. And that, naturally, got her started on a list of his faults.

His hair always having to be so _perfect_- it would look better if he let it hang naturally

The way his eyes looked when he got mad- all narrow and pointy and full of ugly thunderclouds

His voice. Well, more like what he said. And also, it was _his_ voice, which, to her, automatically made it bad

The repetitive insults- you'd think that if he was going to take the trouble to insult someone as often as he insulted Hermione, he would at least think up _different insults._ I mean, really, how uncreative can you get?

The way he strutted around like he owned the world. His father was in Azkaban, for heaven's sakes! Seemed like that would take at least a little bit out of his ego, but no such luck.

His absolute disdain when someone didn't know something. And if _he _didn't know something, he regarded it as worthless information.

How, after all of this, he actually expected people to like him! Really!

It was a pretty long list. She wondered if she could use it in court if she murdered him.

A/N: Sorry this was so short! But hey, if you review (hint hint) the next one may be longer (and up sooner).

Love,

k


	7. Refused Apologies

A/N: I'm so incredibly sorry that this took me so long!!! School is going crazy; I have no time for anything else. Thanks for the reviews!

Hermione had been having a very bad week. She had an overload of homework, Harry and Ron somehow forgot to include her in… anything, and she couldn't even take it all out on Malfoy because she hadn't seen him in ages. She needed to scream at someone. Badly. So when the package she _knew _was from Malfoy arrived on her bed, she didn't even bother to read the label. She didn't open it to see what nasty thing he'd thought up this time. She simply carefully fixed it with a charm that would give the git a nasty surprise when he touched it, and gave it back to the owl that had delivered it. She was sick of this whole thing.

Two Hours Previously

Draco ran a hand through his hair, sighing. He was tired of everything. Tired of school and work (thank God he'd be out of school forever in just a week and a half), tired of everyone staring at him like they thought he was still a Death Eater, tired of having to sneer at everyone to keep up appearances he didn't even really want, and mostly, tired of fighting. He may hate Granger more than even potter (and that was a level of hate not even imaginable for the average citizen) but he was sick of screaming at her. _How nice it would be,_ he thought, _if someone would give her a good hex for me_. But he was pretty sure that if anyone hexed her, it would have to be him. It seemed like she had no one else to fight with nowadays. He kept having to run when he saw her, and Malfoys _never_ run! He had to do something to stop her for fighting with him, but he couldn't just tell her. She'd laugh in his face, and that would get him mad, and that would start a whole new round of fighting. She wouldn't believe a note, either… maybe… if he sent something with the note? Something nice. That would be hard, of course, because Draco was not nice on principle.

Thirty minutes later, after much thought, Draco managed to dredge up a pair of earrings he'd meant to give his mother for her birthday. They had super-thin gold chains dangling tiny pearls and amethysts. He wrapped them quickly, then puzzled over the note. He couldn't say 'mudblood', but he wasn't about to use her first name, either. In the end, he addressed it to H. Granger, from D. Malfoy. Then, he hurried to the owlery and told his eagle owl who to deliver it to, before he could change his mind.

Watching the owl circle in the clear blue sky, the small parcel clutched in it's talons, this suddenly seemed like a _very_ bad idea.

***

When the owl returned an hour and a half later and dropped a small package near the window, Draco felt more than a bit annoyed to see that it was the same one he had sent. _Why the hell had Granger sent his own gift back to him_? He snatched it up furiously-

And yelled and cursed when it turned to ashes in his hands, accompanied by some spectacular blue and gold flames. Which burned his hands to blisters and started on the carpet when he dropped them, before he had the sense to yell "Aguamenti!" and blast them away with water.

Then, fire doused, he smoldered away with his own fury. Here he was, putting away his own pride and natural mind-set, willing to be… not friends, but at least not enemies, eiter. And she'd practically spat in his face! And only _he_ was allowed to act that way! He was going to teach that filthy idiot girl a lesson, and he was going to make sure she never forgot it.

***

Hermione walked out of the library with Harry, well aware that it was long past curfew, and they would both be in trouble if they were caught out of Gryffindor tower this late.

"Hermione, why on earth are we doing so much work?" Harry asked suddenly.

"What?"

:Well, think about it. Exams are over, thank God. And it's only a week and a half until we're done with school- forever."

Hermione had been thinking along the same lines. "Well…" she mused," most of the stuff we're ding now is review, or things we'll probably need for a job or something. Most likely, the teachers don't want us to forget anything that might be important later."

"I guess that makes sense…" Harry said slowly.

"And- Oh, my God!" she squeaked as she almost ran into an absolutely livid Draco Malfoy.

A/N: Again, I'm so sorry this took so long! I'll try to be faster with the next chapter. Maybe if you people reviewed…. ;-) But really, it would be fantastic to get up to 40 reviews for this chapter!

Love

K


	8. About To Kill Each Other

A/N: This took longer than I'd expected. Then again, I'm entered in two writing contests and have crazy amounts of homework, so I hope you guys understand .Thank you a million times to my reviewers!!! You guys are the absolute best!

"You _bitch!_" Malfoy fumed, not bothering to keep his voice down.

"Excuse me?" Hermione said in an ice-cold voice, all trace of surprise evaporated.

"Don't try to play stupid with _me_. You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about."

Harry watched the two of them warily, wanting to tell them to at least talk quieter- they did not want to be caught out of bed after hours- but didn't quite dare to intervene.

"Well," Hermione said in a horribly sarcastic tone, "I can see why you might not believe this, but, contrary to popular belief, I don't _actually_ know everything.

"You _obviously _don't know everything, because if you did, you'd be running as fast as you could away from me, you stupid mudblood!"

"Uh, guys?" Harry cut in uneasily. "I really don't want to witness a murder. Tedious paperwork and all that."

"Don't worry, Potter," Malfoy spat, still glaring at Hermione. "If I kill the mudblood, I'll confess right away."

"Oh," she retorted. "So you can join your filthy father in Azkaban, is that it?"

Dead silence.

"You. Did. _Not_. Just. Say. That."

"Really? Then what did I say?"

"You-" Apparently, Malfoy couldn't think up a name bad enough for her, for he sputtered incoherently for a moment before settling on "Bitch!"

"You said that before. Though you didn't bother to mention just what I did to deserve it this time."

"You know exactly what you did."

"_Then why the hell do I keep asking what I did?!?_"

"Uh, guys," Harry said nervously. Neither of them paid him any attention.

"Maybe you're just rubbing it in!" Malfoy shouted. "I don't know how an idiot mudblood girl's mind works!"

Harry started forward angrily, but Hermione stopped him. "If anyone's going to kill him, it'll be me," she snapped. A part of her grinned; Nicole would be proud of her.

"You just blew the whole thing off after I went to all that trouble!" Malfoy was yelling.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Hermione screamed back. She was almost happy, weirdly enough. She'd needed someone to vent her spleen on for a long time.

Neither of them noticed when Harry walked quietly down the corridor away form them. He quickly walked up a flight of stairs and around a few corners. He wasn't really sure if he should be doing this; Hermione was going to kill him, once she was done with Malfoy. Wondering when she'd become the one to start fights and he'd become the responsible one, he knocked on the door in front of him.

Professor McGonagall opened it, and though he was certainly pleased to see _her_, she was not looking too happy to see _him._

"Potter!" She hissed. "What on earth are you doing out of your common room? You had better have a good excuse, because I don't like giving detentions this late in the year. But I will if I have to."

"Please, Professor," Harry said. "It's Hermione. And Malfoy."

Her eyes narrowed. "What about them?"

"They're about to kill each other. _Now._"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, they're really really mad, and Malfoy made some comments about her blood, and Hermione said something about his father, and they're going to kill each other if someone doesn't stop them."

McGonagall grimaced. "Lead the way, Potter." As they left, she said, "Don't expect this to excuse you from being out of your dormitory after hours."

A/N: I guess that was kinda short. Sorry, guys. I hope you liked it anyways. And I know Harry was a bit OOC, but nothing I could do about that.

REVIEW!!!! Reviews are and authors life blood. Come on, people! It only takes a second!

Thanks for reading! I'll try to update fast.

K

I totally thought I put this up, but I guess not. I'm so so so sorry, guys!!! I cannot believe I didn't put it on. I'll try to be faster next time, again, can't say how sorry I am! Please review!


	9. Stuck Together

A/N: I know this really is too short, but you can choose; short and kinda fast or long and really slow. Sorry, guys. Thank you all so much for the reviews! I love you all!

Madison, I appreciate the feedback.

Hannah, if you're reading this, I miss you so much, girl! Love you!

"I have _never _been more ashamed of two Hogwarts students," Professor McGonagall ranted. Hermione and malfoy both studied the floor of her office. The professor had caught them in various states of fury and magically instituted incapacitation before dragging them off for a good long lecture.

"And two senior students as well, with only a week and a half before you are let loose on the real world!" McGonagall went on. "Miss Granger, I am shocked. You have always been an exemplary student, which only makes tonight's behavior more shameful. And Mr. Malfoy… I thought you were different now." In an absolutely inhuman display of self control, Malfoy kept his mouth shut. Hermione felt awful, but she thought that if McGonagall knew about the 'gift exchange', they'd be in a lot more trouble.

"This will require a severe punishment. I can only hope it will teach you _something_.

The two students were so ashamed that they couldn't meet her eyes. There was silence for a moment before the professor said, "I've decided. It will be unusual, but I believe it will be more effective than anything else I'm permitted to do to students. " Hermione and Malfoy both gulped.; this was going to be very unpleasant.l Hermione was glad that Harry had already gone back to the Gryffindor tower so he couldn't witness her humiliation. Although she was planning on murdering him (figuratively speaking… she thought) at the soonest possible convenience.

"Granger, Malfoy, hold out your hands," McGonagall ordered. They did so, nervously. "So they're touching," she specified snappily. For a moment, neither of them moved, but slowly, they obeyed, edging closer until their hands touched. Hermione was getting a _very_ bad feeling about this. Pulling out her wand, McGonagall muttered something over the extended hands. Hermione felt a weird chill go through her, but she willed herself not to shiver. The teacher flicked her wand again and murmured something else; this time, a wave of heat coursed through Hermione. The feeling vanished when McGonagall lowered her wand.

"What I have done," she explained, glaring at her students, "is- Malfoy keep your arm _up_, maybe if you do you'll remember to listen to me- is a charm. "

"Somehow I guessed that," Malfoy grumbled.

"Do not interrupt me, Mr. Malfoy. As I was saying, it is a charm that binds you two together until I see fit to lift it."

"What exactly are you saying?" Hermione almost squeaked.

"It makes sure that you two are touching at all times." Hermione's mouth dropped open with horror. " I have taken the liberty of allowing you 45 minutes apart for every 24 hours. I suggest using it for bathroom breaks. Also, if you are polite to each other for any amount of time, you get one fourth of that time apart, so if you can be polite for four hours, one hour will be free, in addition to the set 45 minutes."

"What exactly do you mean by 'polite'?" Malfoy choked out.

McGonagall turned her steely gaze on him. "I mean, no calling each other names, no glares, and absolutely _no _harmful physical or magical contact. Actually, those last would be extremely unadvisable. I will know, and I will make your lives absolutely miserable, trust me.

"Now, tyhere is a room near the Gryffindor common room waiting for you, behind the portrait of an Indian girl. When you get there, say 'password set' and choose a password. Oh, and when you want to be apart, say 'time out'. I trust you can live with each other for a week and a half."

Malfoy dropped his hand, which dragged Hermione's down with it. It seemed she really couldn't pull away.

In the hallway back to the new dormitory, both Hermione and Malfoy were ready to explode.

"This is all your fault!" he finally burst out.

"_My_ fault?! I didn't say a word until _you _started screaming at me!" she snapped back.

"Well, if you hadn't-"

"Stop," she interrupted.

"Excuse me?"

"Just- stop. Neither of us are happy with this, but I am not going to spend every moment of the next week and a half fighting. It would also be _nice_ to get some extra time off," she hinted.

What Hermione really wanted to do was scream at him for getting her into this situation until she was hoarse, but she could only be mean and spiteful for so long at a time, and she knew that if she yelled at him now, they'd be fighting every second.

He glared at her. "Fine. But if you think I'm going to be nice and sweet-"

"How delusional do you think I am?" she snorted.

"You never know with mud… with girls," he muttered.

Hermione glared at him as they reached a portrait of an Indian- from India, not America- girl dressed in red and gold.

"Password set," Hermione said testily.

"Go ahead, I'm waiting," the portrait said. Hermione was a bit taken aback; she'd expected this regal-looking girl to be a bit more formal. Hermione hesitated. "Well?"

"Purgatory," she decided.

"Fine. Go on in." The portrait swung forward.

Hermione marched forward, dragging a disgruntled Draco after her.

****

"You were a bit hard on them, Minerva," Professor Slughorn sighed across McGonagall's desk.

The severe woman shook her head. "They have to learn. They're used to working with people they like. They'll get to work someday and their boss will make them work with someone else, and they won't know what to do. Someone has to teach them. "

"Well, Miss Granger will definitely work," Slughorn chuckled. "But I'm not so sure if that Malfoy boy intends to work a day in his life."

"Someday, he'll find he has to. His father was the one who got the money in that family, though not, I admit, necessarily by working. Now that he's in Azkaban, Draco may need to make his own money. And he needs to know how."

"Still, it was harsh."

"It was for their own good."

A/N: Hope you liked it! If you did (or didn't), review!!! You know how I love that… :-) I'll try to update. Soon-ish. Did I surprise you? LET ME KNOW, REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! just for the record, I hope I did.

Love yas!


	10. Settling In

A/N: First off, thanks for the reviews! Thank you so much Purple Sensibility, for an amazing review, you don't even know how much I appreciate it! This chapter's for you!

Oh, and yes, this story was probably actually set too early for Hermione to have a laptop and an iPod, but get over it. Also, it has been said many times (and has been true each and every time) that Hermione is a little out of character. Yes, I'm trying to fix that, let me know if I'm succeeding! Thanks everyone for reading!

Oh, just to renew this, Do you think I own Harry Potter? Or iPods, or the Apple industry? Or anything other than this amazing plot? I'd love to, but no, sorry, I don't.

Now, since I'm sure you're all sick and tired of my ramblings, for the story!

The rooms were nice enough. Not anything fancy, but they were, after all, being punished. The walls were hung with silver and red, and all of their things had been moved into the mini-dormitory. Hermione noted with satisfaction that her laptop had been set on a desk in the corner, and her iPod Nano lay on top.

It had not escaped Hermione's attention that they would be sharing a bed. She was relying on the threat of what McGonagall would do if they hurt each other to protect her. _But I don't need that,_ she reminded herself. _I can protect myself. And Malfoy had better know that by now_.

Sighing, Hermione walked slowly to the room they would be sleeping in; Malfoy followed without argument, his hand on hers. She pulled open the door, and immediately went to the dresser to the right of the large bed, and found that her clothes were neatly folded inside. She saw another dresser on the other side of the bed and guessed that Malfoy's clothes were in that one. She pulled out a satiny pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, then she and Malfoy crossed the room to the dresser that did, in fact, hold his clothes. She didn't pay attention as he grabbed his own sleepware, but muttered, "Time out."

"Forty-five minutes remaining," a female voice chimed out of nowhere.

"What?" Malfoy jumped, surprised. The voice didn't speak again. "What was that?"

"Well, it's obcious, isn't it?" Hermione sneered, knowing she sounded entirely too much like she had in first year; snotty. "It's art of the binding charm McGonagall put on us; it's telling us how long we have apart for the rest of the day."

"Thank you, Miss Know-It-All," Malfoy snapped crossly. "I know that."

"If you know, why did you have to ask?" she retorted.

She was across the hall and in the bathroom with the dor locked before he could think of a reply.

Hermione showered, taking more time than was probably wise, but she deeded the warmth of the water flowing down her back to calm herself down. When she was done, she towled herself dry, pulled on her pajamas, and carefully drew a brush through her hair. Finally, she couldn't stall any longer, she opened the bathroom door, letting billows of steam into the hallway, to find Malfoy lounging against the wall outside. His hair was wet, which meant there was probably another bathroom in the dormitory, which was very lucky.

"Took you long enough," he said icily.

Hermione gave him a very piercing stare, and marched into the bedroom. He caught her hand on the way through the door, clearly afraid of what might happen if they ran out of the forty-five minutes and weren't touching.

For the first time in months, Hermione didn't dream.

Which, looking back, was lucky for Malfoy; it wouldn't have been good for him to wake up in the middle of the first night of that particular punishment to find the girl next to him screaming her lungs out with barely a breath for air, and unable to be woken. Honestly, it wouldn't have been good for anyone. But he would deal with that another night.

***

The next morning after getting ready, Hermione and Malfoy went down to the Great Hall, hands barely touching, amid a near hurricane of whispers. "What are they doing together?" "I heard they almost got expelled for fighting on school grounds!" "Hermione Granger, that suck-up? Not a chance would _she _get in trouble." "Well why is she with _him_?" "Beats me, this is crazy!" Hermione maintained a fierce glare all the way down to the Hall, where she marched right up to Harry, and said, in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear, "Harry, I swear to you, we may never be friends again."

Harry, startled, glanced up from his toast, and looked properly cowed. "What's that for?"

"_You little sneak, you turned me in!" _she hissed angrily. "Now look what I'm stuck with."

Harry looked startled. "What?"

"This… Malfoy! He's my punishment. Now I get to spend my last days here with _him_!"

"What? No way would McGonagall have done that!" Harry exclaimed.

"Wait a second," Ron said. He quickly swallowed the mouthful of toast in his mouth before continuing. "That's awful Hermione, but how is it Harry's fault?"

"I was trying to get Malfoy in trouble, really!" Harry protested.

"Thank you Potter," Malfoy said coldly.

"And really, Hermione, I didn't expect this! And you were fighting a bit hard." Harry ignored Malfoy.

"You didn't answer my question," Ron pointed out.

Hermione sniffed. "I was having a…disagreement with Malfoy and _Harry_ decided it got out of hand and went to McGonagall about it."

Ron looked at Harry reproachfully. "Why'd you do that Harry?"

"Like I said, I was trying to get Malfoy in trouble!"  
Hermione sniffed loudly, but seated herself grandly across the table from Harry and Ron.

"Excuse me, Granger, we are not sitting here," Malfoy snapped from behind her.

"No, sorry Malfoy, not excused. Besides, who else would we sit with, the people who pretend to be your friends because you're rich in Slytherin? Or that cow Parkinson? I don't think even _you _like her. And, no, before you ask, we are_ not_ sitting alone, I don't need anyone else talking about me, thank you very much. This is kind of your only choice."

Malfoy's lips tightened, but he sat stiffly next to her, muttering, "Why do girls always get their way?"

Hermione smiled sweetly. "Because we're naturally smarter, and our manipulation skill are better. Boys get everything by brute strength."

There was an instant outcry at that. "We do not!" Ron protested, as Harry cried, "You can only say _you're _naturally smarter, not all girls!" and Malfoy said indignantly, "I'm in _Slytherin_, my manipulation skills are _miles_ beyond any Gryffindor's!"

Hermione smirked, and began to butter some toast.

***

Luckily, exams were over, but they still had classes, although hardly anyone was actually doing anything. The teachers that day had given up trying to get the restless seventh-years to work, and were basically letting them have the last week or so of school free. This was a relief to everyone except Hermione, who was convinced that she wasn't prepared to really be on her own in the world, and could be seen constantly poring over her spellbooks, Malfoy lazy and bored-looking at her side.

"How do you work out that you're not ready, Hermione?" Harry asked her one evening in the library, where she had dragged Malfoy, who would have put up a lot more of a fight if he actually had something else to do. "After all you've done last year?"

Hermione tried not to think about last year; it brought up unpleasant nightmares about dragons and the Malfoy Manor. She brushed Harry off with a hurried, "Well, you never know."

She had filled out several more job applications, and was waiting on a reply for several old ones. Malfoy, predictably, hadn't done any. "Why would I need a job?" he said scornfully, several times. "I've got enough money to live comfortably with a family of ten until I turn a hundred."

"Yes, and what happens to the family of ten when you're dead and you've squandered all the money?" Hermione always asked under her breath when he said this.

The second night was considerably more eventful than the first, mainly because Hermione chose to use both her laptop and her iPod.

The desk was big enough for both of them, and had two comfortable chairs pushed up to it. Hermione chose the one in front of the computer, while Malfoy took the one by the window, which was a nice compromise. Evidently, Malfoy had thought the laptop was a silver box sitting there for no particular reason, because when Hermione flipped it open, he looked shocked.

A/n: I'm so sorry to cut you off short, and I'll update as fast as I can with the next chapter, but I just found out that I won a nationwide writing contest and it's going to be published in an anthology!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I can barely even type, love you all, I'll update soon!


	11. Nightmares

A/N: I am so so sorry I cut the last chapter off short. I really meant for it to be longer, but, ya know, I got a little psyched about that writing contest…

Anyways, thanks again to Purple Sensibility, and everyone else who reviewed, you guys are amazing (although there are so not enough of you)! And thank you, Maddie-la, I know Hermione is amazing. More importantly, duh, I'm awesome! Thanks for the imaginary party!

Moving on, I don't own any of this yadda yadda yadda. Now… for the story!

Malfoy was not getting up. He was lying in bed and being stubborn, and Hermione was going to get him out of bed if it was the last thing she ever did. She had started in a civil tone, but was quickly learning that nothing but extreme measures was going to wake him.

She leaned close to his ear. "Malfoy?"

He gave a protesting sort of grunt.

All right, that's it, Hermione thought. Then, at the very top of her voice, in a yell that not many opera singers could have managed, right in his ear, she shrieked, "DRACO MALFOY GET OUT OF BED!"

Which, predictably, resulted in two bonked heads, quite a few very loud, very explicit swear words, and a thoroughly awake, if very annoyed, Malfoy.

"What was that for?" he all but roared.

"We're going to be late for class," Hermione said calmly.

Malfoy swore again. "It's nearly the last week of school, Granger, it's not like we're _doing_ anything!"

Hermione just raised her eyebrows, and dragged him off the bed so she could search through her dresser for that days robes.

Half an hour later, she was close to screaming again. "Malfoy, why are you still in the shower? We're going to be late!" She had been right in thinking that there were two bathrooms. It also seemed that she was not the only one who could take long showers. Finally, he was out and dressed, and Hermione grabbed his hand and half- dragged him to breakfast, Malfoy still yawning as they rushed down staircases and through empty hallways.

It was a long, dull day. Hermione slapped Malfoy twice, once to keep him from mouthing off to Professor Flitwick, and the other to wake him during potions, where they were concocting Draught of the Living Death for review purposes. They sat by the lake under an oak tree for a while, but Hermione decided that it wasn't productive, and was about to stand up when she saw that Malfoy had fallen asleep. Grumbling, she sat back down and yanked yet another job application from her book bag, to check it over for the third time.

The air was getting chilly and the skies dark by the time Malfoy woke up and they tramped back into the castle for dinner. The meal was uneventful, other than Malfoy snapping at Ron and Harry, and the two of them snapping right back. Fed up, Hermione attempted to stand and stomp fearsomely out of the Hall, but forgot that Malfoy still had a hold on her elbow, and only managed to trip and go crashing into the table, scattering leftover dishes everywhere.

Irritated, disgruntled, and messy, Hermione and Malfoy headed back to their dormitory. Malfoy went straight to the desk and seized the book that he had left there the day before. This suited Hermione just fine; she flipped open her computer and turned it on, waiting as it hummed to life. As it started up, she put the earphones of the iPod into her ears and started it on shuffle. The music slowly calmed her agitated system as she logged onto the internet and began to check her email.

The day before, Malfoy had only looked at her technology in a sort of grudging curiosity, but now, he finally broke and said, "What the hell are those _things_?" pointing to her iPod and laptop. Hermione, now humming softly along with the music, didn't hear him.

"Granger!" he said impatiently.

Hermione's head snapped up, and she yanked out one of her earphones. "What was that?"

"What is _with _you?"

"I was listening to music. I didn't hear you," she said in a coldly dignified voice.

"What music? There is no music playing. Are you going crazy or what?"

She spared him the impatient glare she was itching to give. Instead, she held up her iPod, and said, "This plays music for whoever has the earphones." She showed him the white cord not in her ear. "It's a muggle thing."

"Oh," he said, and almost turned away again, but, apparently, couldn't resist asking, "Then what's that thing on the desk?"

Hermione sighed. "It's a computer, and I'm not going to explain it, it's too complicated."

He glared at her for a moment, then turned his gaze back to his book, clearly ignoring her. Hermione resisted the urge to tell him that he was acting like a six year old. Barely.

Hermione should have know that the nightmares wouldn't stay away three nights in a row. She felt like she should have been prepared for them, but she'd just been so tired, with Malfoy and the year ending and all those job applications, and she was distracted. Later, Malfoy said she should have at least warned him.

Hermione was asleep. She knew because she'd had the nightmare so many times, she could at least distinguish it from her real life, although it didn't make it less terrifying. There was Bellatrix, standing there, leering and cackling, the filthy knife in her hand. Every time Hermione saw it, she wondered, because why would Bellatrix need a knife when she had the Unforgivable Curses? Extra fear, the logical part of Hermione's brain figured. The part that wasn't screeching in fear. But the dream wasn't right this time. Because Draco Malfoy was standing there as well. Yes, he had been there that day. But did he stand there, laughing and torturing her as well? _No, no, that's not what happened!_ Hermione's brain cried. But she couldn't remember what did happen. She couldn't remember… laughing… screaming evil pain laugh fear don't know what to do oh God save me! Screaming, screaming, screaming.

It was nearly one in the morning when the sound woke Malfoy. "What the bloody hell?" he hissed crossly. It took him a moment to figure out what the noise was. Screaming, from right next to his ear. At first, when he looked at Hermione, he thought she was possessed. Her whole body was writhing, shaking, and she was screaming like someone was torturing her. The next second he realized that she was asleep, which meant that she was having a nightmare.

"Granger!" he said slightly frantically. "Granger! Granger wake up! _Granger!_" He was almost yelling now. "Granger, dammit, wake up! Wake up!" He didn't know what to do. So he slapped her. Hermione's eyes flew open, wild and panicked, and she gasped. Malfoy grabbed her wrists. "Calm down. Calm down. It's okay. You're okay."

Hermione's breath was coming in gasps. Gasps that turned quickly to sobs, that she tried to stifle. She rolled over, pressing her face to her pillow as her body shook and she attempted to control herself. _Just a dream, it was just a dream. Calm down, Hermione. It's alright. _Slowly, her breath and heartbeat slowed as she calmed. At last, she lay still.

With uncharacteristic gentleness, Malfoy rolled her onto her side. "Are you okay?"

"I'm _fine!_" Hermione knew she didn't sound convincing. She squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm fine." She controlled her voice. "It was just a dream." The effect was sort of ruined when she sniffed.

Malfoy sighed. "Right. Just a dream that could make you scream for hours because you can't wake yourself up. What kind of dream is that?"

"One based off of a memory that happened to take place at _your_ house. I'm sure you remember," Hermione snapped.

Malfoy flinched. He _did _remember. How could he forget? Sometimes, he still wasn't sure why he had said he thought it 'could be Potter', brought to his home with a swollen face and exhausted friends. Tired of the fear, he supposed. He had just wanted someone to win who could take away the fear. The trouble was, he had been too much of a coward to do anything himself. He himself had never been able to forget Hermione on the floor with his aunt standing over her, both of them screaming, one with anger, the other with pain and fear. He couldn't forget Weasley's voice from the basement, calling her name, just as scared. He wished he had done something. He'd never say it out loud, but he wished he'd helped the girl on the floor, so a year later, she wouldn't still be screaming with fear as raw as it had been the first time. He didn't want to help _Hermione_. He wanted to help the memory of a frightened girl. As little sense as that made.

A/N: Well, that took longer than I expected (mostly because I'm failing math…oops). So sorry! Still, I hope you enjoyed! I _know _it was too short! Still, it was longer than it was last time! That's a plus, right? Review review review! Review to yell at me, review to tell me I'm amazing, review to say you reviewed, I don't care! Just review!


	12. End of the Year

A/N: oh wow, it has been ages. I am so so so sorry you guys. First off, I'm thanking all my reviewers. (The Amazing Madison? Really? Think of a cooler name and drop the ego dear. Just cause you started me on fanfic does not make you amazing. It makes you the reason I'm failing math. ;P) Purple Sensibility, fantastic as always. Also, Treacherous Darkness (awesome name by the way), ladyBlue wolf, kori-lyn21, and lovefromcaitlin, thanks for reviewing! As to the rest of you, why did you not review? –glares menacingly- On to the story!

_One more week, one more week,_ Hermione chanted to herself. _Then I will be free to enjoy the summer, then get a job, and get rid of Malfoy. One more week. I can make this. _ Truth be told, it wasn't as bad as it had been. Ever since that first nightmare, Malfoy had seemed almost ashamed of himself, and as a result, a lot easier to boss around. Hermione lived her life bossing people around.

However, she felt a little lost. "Granger," Malfoy had snapped, annoyed, the day before when she was pouring over her spell books. "Exams are over. Job applications are, in your case, done. _You have nothing to study for_. Not without knowing what job you'll get." Hermione was dismayed to find that he was right. It gave her a slightly hollow feeling. She hadn't had a day since she was five years old and just starting her first ever day of school that she hadn't had something to study for.

So she re-read _A History of Magic_, just for something to do. "Something is deeply wrong with you," Malfoy told her firmly when she took it to lunch a few days later.

"For once, Malfoy," Harry observed, "you actually said something true." Malfoy glared at him. So did Hermione. She stood, annoyed, and tried to walk away. Malfoy, not expecting her to move so fast, still had a hand on her elbow, which he tightened. She stumbled, and he almost fell of the bench. The result was that he ended up pulling hard on her arm, sending shooting pain up to her shoulder. Hermione cried out, fell back, and ended up hitting her head hard on the table. It hurt. And she was furious.

Hermione was frustrated. For that matter, so was Malfoy. There were two days left to school, but Hermione wanted to be free of Draco _now,_ and vice versa. She wasn't a particularly impatient person, but she felt she was going crazy. She was also a bit nervous about school ending. Summer had always been one thing; she would see her friends later, she knew, at the start of school. But this time, there would be no start of school. She didn't know when she would see everyone again, if ever. It made her a bit nervous.

Finally, it was the last day, and Professor McGonagall called Hermione and Malfoy to her office. Hermione was relieved; it was finally time to take the punishment on the two of them off, and set her free from his sarcastic remarks and general hostility. They marched down the hallway, Malfoy grasping her wrist. She was, quite frankly, sick of always having to make sure of where he was, always, in case they stopped touching for a moment. It had happened a few times, and every time, her skin burned until they were close enough together again.

When they got to McGonagall's office and entered, her face was stern. So was her voice when she greeted them with a cold, "Good afternoon."

They muttered salutations in reply.

"So," McGonagall continued, "you have served your detention." Malfoy was clearly biting back a flippant reply as she continued. "However, I'm not sure you really understand what it was for."

"It was about working with people, even if you don't like them," Hermione said, before realizing that the teacher hadn't been looking for an answer. Hermione blushed as McGonagall gave her a hard look.

"Partly, Miss Granger," she said. "It was also about learning to live with people you don't necessarily get along with, and about accommodating others." Malfoy opened his mouth; Hermione kicked his shins to get him to shut up. He didn't look as if he was going to say something that would be helpful. "As I said, I'm not sure you got anything out of it." Hermione bit her lip. "So I'm extending it."

Hermione felt her jaw drop, but the enraged voice came from beside her. "_What?_"

A/N: That chapter was way too short for such a long wait! But I've finally gotten to the part of the story I wanted to start at, so hopefully, updates will be quicker. Thanks for bearing with me, and I'll try and be quicker next time!

Mysteryssister

PS. Don't you just love cliffhangers? I do!


	13. So Much for the Library Helping

A/N: Yay! Faster update! You should be proud of me. Thank you to the reviewers! And to you others…. C'mon, people. One little click. Just for me? Hope you like this one! Oh, small amount of cussing. You can handle it, I promise. You're big kids now.

Hermione couldn't believe it. "Is that even legal?" she asked, shocked.

McGonagall gave her a look. "If you can find anywhere that it _isn't_ legal, I'll be happy to take the enchantment off," she said calmly. "Otherwise, your detention will continue a minimum of two weeks into summer break. I know neither of you are starting jobs until mid-summer at the earliest."

Malfoy just stood there, clenching and unclenching his fists, his mind whirring. He couldn't believe it when he came up blank on what he could do to stop this from happening. Sure, his family still had money, but McGonagall wasn't interested in that. They no longer had influence over the Ministry, so he couldn't threaten her with that, or even with what his father would do when he found out about this, because his father was in jail. He couldn't do anything about this punishment. Frankly, he was shocked. That had never happened before.

"So," the professor interrupted his thoughts. "All that remains is whose house you will spend the summer at. Knowing, of course, that all aspects of this particular punishment will remain unaltered."

"Mine." Hermione spoke before Malfoy could get his head together, but at the word, his eyes narrowed.

"And why would you think that, Granger?" he asked dangerously.

She spoke through gritted teeth, but he was sure she was telling the truth, when she said, "Because, Malfoy, there are certain memories associated with your home that I would prefer not to relive." McGonagall watched the exchange without expression. "Also," Hermione continued, "I have things I need to do this summer at home, while I'm sure you were planning on lounging around your bedroom doing nothing."

Malfoy found it hard to argue with logic like that. "Fine," he muttered grudgingly. "Whatever."

McGonagall nodded, looking a measure more satisfied. "Good. You two are free to pack. I will contact both of your parents and let them know."

Hermione winced. She knew there was no way to get out of it, but she wished her parents didn't have to know about her 'troublemaking'. She hated it when they were disappointed in her. But before she could try to negotiate this, Malfoy was dragging her out the door by her wrist.

"This is all your fault," he hissed angrily as soon as they were outside the office.

Hermione felt oddly calm. "Only half my fault," she said composedly. Malfoy decided to fume silently as they made their way to the library.

Halfway there, they met Harry and Ron.

"Hey, Hermione," Ron greeted. Then, he squinted back at Malfoy.

"Didn't you just go to McGonagall to get rid of _him_?" Harry asked.

Hermione sighed. "I have to look something up. I'll tell you guys at lunch." She pulled Malfoy away before he jinxed her friends; he was clearly in a foul mood and hardly above dueling in the hallway.

In the library, Hermione headed straight to the section on law. Madam Pince gave them a hard, beady-eyed look when Hermione started to browse through the pages.

"You can't check anything out now," the librarian snapped. "Too late."

"I know," Hermione replied, trying to stay civil. "I just need to check something. It won't take long."

Of course, this was the library, and it was Hermione in it, so naturally, the statement 'It won't take long' was a lie. She flipped through volumes of laws of punishments and school rules and guidelines. And time after time, she came up blank. This was a bit hard for her to accept, so when Malfoy finally stood after three hours, declaring he was bored, tired, and needed to pack, she yelled, "Do you want to be stuck with me all summer or not?"

Malfoy gritted his teeth. "You are _never _going to find anything," he growled. "We are leaving."

"How do you know that?" Hermione asked furiously, her voice escalating in volume and pitch.

"Because, Granger." Malfoy's voice was nearly as loud as hers now. "Do you really think McGonagall would give us a way out of this? Honestly? Use those two brain cells that aren't so crammed with facts that they can't function and think about it."

Hermione pressed her lips together. And, lacking any other thing to say in response to that, she reverted to the crudest form of a retort she could come up with, the one she never used because she always had more intelligent things to say. "Fuck you, Draco Malfoy."

Madam Pince, who had been hovering around, glaring, finally yelled, "That is _it._ The library is _closed._ OUT!"

Hermione didn't wait to be thrown from the room by one of the librarian's many jinxes; she marched out fast, Malfoy holding onto her elbow.

A/N: You like? You hate? Whatever, review! Review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review!

Clear? Haha, oh good! Next chapter should be up soon. Be proud of my fast updates!


	14. Leaving

A/N: Sorry this took longer than I expected! The whole first page got deleted, so at least I have a sort of excuse. Thanks eternal to all my wonderful reviewers! You are fantabulous! Oh, I feel like I should say this because I haven't in quite a while, but, I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR ANYTHING RELATED. It would be lovely if I did, but then, I would not be writing fanfiction, I would have made it this way in the book in the first place. So, there you are, now publishing companies can BACK OFF. Thank you. Onto the story.

They arrived approximately three minutes later in the Great Hall, and Hermione was still furious.

"Hey, 'Mione," Ron grunted around a mouthful of food without looking up.

Harry was more eloquent, but he didn't sound particularly more intelligent when he looked at Malfoy and asked slowly, "Why is he here?"

Malfoy gave him a glare that would have peeled paint, but then again, Harry had faced Voldemort seven times, so he wasn't unduly impressed.

Ron swallowed his mouthful and looked up. He noticed Malfoy for the first time, and his look of contentment with the food vanished and was replaced with a mixture of incredulity and disgust. "What's the deal with _him_?" he asked.

1 Hermione started slicing her chicken with a vengeance. "Can you never pay attention, Ronald? Harry just asked."

"So, Hermione," Harry said pointedly, slowly, as if to make sure Ron could keep up. "Why is this ferrety Slytherin snake sitting at our table?"

"I'm sitting right here, you know," Malfoy said snappily.

"Which is precisely why I'm choosing to ignore you," Harry answered. Malfoy glared.

"So what is it, Hermione?" Ron asked.

"McGonagall doesn't believe we've learned our lesson," she sniffed. "So I'm stuck with him into the summer."

"It's fascinating how you talk about it as if it weren't more a punishment for me than it is for you," Malfoy drawled. The others ignored him.

"Into the summer?" Harry asked incredulously. "But you're done with school! That can't be right!"

"The problem is, I can't find anywhere that it isn't legal," Hermione cried. "I've been through dozens of books, and they just say that teachers can administer punishment as they see fit as long as it meets the basic protocol for humaneness."

"That's unbelievable!" Ron was getting purple in the face.

"But she won't even be your teacher anymore," Harry reasoned. "So she doesn't have those privileges."

"But it's not against the law in any way. It's perfectly legal to bind two people together."

Ron just stared now. "That is totally ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous is that I can't find anything more specific than that in the library."

"I told you that you wouldn't," Malfoy reminded her superciliously. "No way McGonagall would give us something to work with."

"With that attitude," Hermione countered, "I might say you wanted to be stuck like this."

"And if you think that, you're more delusional than I thought."

Hermione gave him her highest strength glower, the one that made experienced Death Eaters cower in fear. The one that, incidentally, she had acquired from Professor McGonagall herself. Malfoy backed off.

"The point being," Hermione continued crossly, "that this totally ruined all of my plans for the summer. I mean, how am I going to be able to swim with _him _there?"

All three boys ogled at her. "Swim?" Harry asked.

"What are you talking about?" Ron added. Malfoy didn't need to say anything. He was incredulous.

"Yes, swim," Hermione sighed. "I'm on the team at home."

"You play a sport?" Harry asked dubiously.

"Technically, I don't play, I race."

"Still!" said Ron. "I can't imagine you actually getting exercise."

"Wow, thank you Ron. Let's see if you can make an effort to be a bit less tactful."

"What'd I say?"

Hermione groaned. "Yes, I swim. Now can we move on?"

"Blimey, Hermione, how did you never let us know about this?" Harry asked.

"Now you know." Mentally, Hermione calculated how many hours she would have to be polite to Malfoy to get enough time away from him for the two and a half hour swim practice. For that she would need two point five times four, which was…ten. Ten whole hours of being polite to Malfoy. And, as they had discovered, sleeping time didn't count. And not just ten hours once in a while. No, this was ten hours _each day_, just so she could go to swim practice at…. Oh no, Hermione realized. Practice started at 5:30 in the morning. And the walk to the pool each morning took a little less than ten minutes, so they would probably not have enough time away from each other for Malfoy to sleep in. She glanced over at him. He was staring lividly at his plate, stabbing his fork into pieces of food as if they personally were causing his misery. She decided to drop the bomb of her swim schedule later.

Harry pulled her out of her brooding. "The train leaves in an hour, Hermione, shouldn't you finish packing?" he asked.

Hermione looked up. "Yeah, thanks, Harry."

He and Ron stood. So did she, pulling Malfoy up beside her. "I wasn't done," the Slytherin objected, annoyed.

"Yes you were," Hermione informed him. "Let's go."

Neither Hermione nor Malfoy had much left to pack, but the job took quite a bit longer than it needed too, because they both kept pulling each other across the room to get something of theirs, or put something away, or just to spite the other. In fact, Hermione was just latching the lid of her trunk and sweeping a glance around the room to make sure she hadn't missed anything when the bell rang, telling her they had five minutes to get down to the Great Hall before the carriages left.

Malfoy picked up his own trunk. "Time to go," he said, sounding a bit waspish. Hermione nodded in reply, and they left the empty room behind them, stepping out into the corridor. Hermione cast one look behind her at the portrait of the Indian girl, then she and Malfoy walked briskly away from the room.

The Great Hall was packed with students heading for the carriages. She pulled Malfoy behind her, searching for Harry and Ron, but they ran into Ginny.

"Hermione!" the younger girl greeted her happily. "Great, c'mon, let's get a carriage." Hermione let herself be led by Ginny to one of the vehicles. Malfoy trailed behind her, not putting up much of a fight.

In truth, Malfoy felt a little lost. Everyone here was searching for their friends, calling to each other, but here, he had no friends. Pansy had promptly dumped him when she found out that he was no longer a Death Eater. Crabbe was dead and Goyle hated him, believing it was Malfoy's fault that the former had died. The various admirers and hangers-on of Slytherin had generally dissipated, and they didn't count as friends in any case. Blaise Zabini was the only person who had stood by Malfoy, and he had neglected to come bact to Hogwarts that year, opting instead to finish his education at home. So there was no one for Draco to join, no one to call out to to sit with. He was stuck sitting with the littlest weasel and the bookworm of Hogwarts. What a prospect.

He took one last fleeting look at the school as the carriage rumbled to a start and Granger and Weasley started to chatter, and a slightly startling thought came to him; his time here had not actually been that bad. He had almost enjoyed it. He had made friends, not necessarily very good ones, but they were there. He had had good times. He had had victories and failures, passed and failed tests, people and teachers he had liked and hated. Suddenly, the place he had complained about and ridiculed for so long didn't seem so bad. Admittedly, he still didn't like even the memory of Dumbledore, second year had been far too stressful with all the Chamber of Secrets business, fifth even more so with OWLs , and sixth was a veritable nightmare with all the plotting he was supposed to be doing, and not doing very well at. But after seven years at the place, it was odd to be leaving, strange to know he would probably never return here. Maybe, he reflected, he would look back in a few years and actually miss this place. But then Draco Malfoy chuckled to himself. Maybe it hadn't been that bad, but it was doubtful that he would miss Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

A/N: Well there you are! Hopefully the next chap. will be up soon. Like it? Think it was awful? Review review review, I love feedback! I stayed up late into the night to finish this for you. This chapter was slightly longer, I believe. So, I'll try and update fast, but I'll probably be faster if you REVIEW!


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